


Take It Like a Man

by Riachinko



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Group Sex, LeFou likes it just like in hentai but it's still fairly rapey just fyi, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 19:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riachinko/pseuds/Riachinko
Summary: “I would give you anything you could desire.”That had been what Gaston had said, right? But LeFou would never have imagined the possibility of being surrounded by his lecherous comrades, nor how terribly exciting it might be to be taken by them simultaneously.(Basically this is a LeFou gangbang, sorry 'bout it.)





	Take It Like a Man

It was another hot, sleepless night set up in camp. The threat of war was an inevitability but not yet a pressing concern, and most of Gaston’s company unit had taken easily to sleep.

Though the campsite was absolutely silent in the dead of night, LeFou had managed to slip from his tent without waking his tentmates, which had been a feat on its own; waiting until he heard Antoine’s deep breathing and Tom’s soft snores until he made his move. Another thing entirely was evading the men on duty, standing watch over the camp.

He hadn't been seen I'm the dim glow of the fire as he weaved between tents; he hadn't stepped on any twigs or stumbled over any rogue equipment strewn across the ground. Captain Gaston’s tent was three down from his own, at the edge of the valley, and LeFou had made it there safely, high on adrenaline.

His Captain was a heavy sleeper, LeFou noted, as he didn’t stir at all when LeFou entered the tent. In the darkness, barely illuminated by the fire outside, he could make out Gaston’s chiseled form atop his bedroll, blankets mussed around him. LeFou stayed off to the side, propping himself up with one hand and ghosting the other down Gaston’s body. He’d fallen asleep in his undergarments.

Knickers didn’t give LeFou the access to Gaston’s body that he’d hoped for - his own nightgown hanging off of him airily - but his fingers worked nimbly to untie them and set Gaston free from his confines. The man grunted above him, but by the time he properly woke, LeFou already had the man’s limp cock between his lips.

“LeFou?”

Gaston’s amused tone didn’t go unnoticed, and LeFou hummed softly in acknowledgment, feeling the other man’s member begin to stiffen against his tongue. He was thankful to hear his name, he’d been half worried about receiving a fist to the face instead. But he was welcomed; Gaston spread his legs wider and LeFou crawled in between them, unable to see quite where he was going. The man’s hands tangled in LeFou’s hair, leading him closer to his damp flesh.

LeFou replaced his his lips with his hand, stroking his Captain tightly until he was entirely rigid and hips thrust up into LeFou’s grip. His skin was smooth and he was warm; he could feel every muscle and vein twitching under his fingertips.

LeFou dipped his head lower to lap at Gaston’s balls, drawing a hiss from the man above him, and the hand in LeFou’s hair tightened. He was pulled back up; Gaston’s cock resting insistently at his mouth, and he smiled against it.

“Do you like this, Captain?”

“Mm, LeFou, you're the best,” Gaston sighed in response, barely above a whisper.

He kept LeFou's head down, and since quiet was a life or death necessity, LeFou had no choice but to swallow Gaston down and accept him against the back of his throat. He refused his body the urge to choke or heave, breathing sharply through his nose and running his tongue along the underside of Gaston’s throbbing member.

“You're my favourite,” Gaston praised, sighing, head lolling back in absolute bliss. “Such a good boy…”

He’d begun to rock his hips, and LeFou had to resist moaning sweetly against the weight on his tongue when he began to move in and out of him. He sucked as hard as he could to compensate, lapping at the man's cock as though he was a child lapping at the sweetest lollipop. He'd risked quite a bit to be here between Gaston’s legs, and he figured he'd might as well give it his all.

“Fuck--”

He looked up as he bobbed his head; Gaston coated in a dark blue glow from the fire and moonlight hitting the tent’s canvas. He was just barely able to connect eyes with Gaston; the man’s dark and heavy-lidded in contrast to LeFou’s bright, glassy chocolate ones. LeFou's lips were pink and swollen, cheeks rosy, sheened with a thin layer of sweat.

He was so, so hard - erection swaying freely against nothing, given the looseness of his nightgown - and he shifted against Gaston to slip a hand downwards, pumping himself in time to the bobs of his head. He came first, overwhelmed with passion and need, and Gaston's grip in LeFou’s hair tightened even more; the perfect pain.

He was close, too. His hips shook, a stuttering rhythm that LeFou recognised as a pending orgasm. He took Gaston’s cock deep into his throat once more as he felt Gaston stiffen intensely, and then slack. He swallowed the hot, salty fluid because he didn't have a choice, but licked the seed from his lips and hand in a coy show of approval for it, biting his lip and smirking up at his superior.

“Thank you, Captain,” he purred.

And they collapsed together, LeFou crawling up the bedroll enough to slump over onto Gaston’s chest. He played with Gaston’s chest hair, fingers tracing the curves of his pecs, down to his abdomen and back up. This was the body of a God, and LeFou closed his eyes against it, kissing the man’s side and holding tightly to him.

“If only everyone could be as lucky as to have someone like you, LeFou…there'd be no need for war. Everyone would be at peace.”

LeFou hummed and absorbed the praise. Surrounded by other soldiers, he didn't have a lot of time to be praised by the man...and when he did, the person Gaston was most fond of praising was himself.

“If it were in my power, LeFou, I would give you anything you could desire,” Gaston yawned, the early morning hour catching up with him after a long day of training and strategizing.

He wrapped one arm haphazardly around LeFou's shoulder, the other dipping down to tuck himself back into his knickers and readjusting the blanket.

“I wish things were different,” LeFou spoke wistfully. “That sounds nice…If everyone could have me,” he snickered.

He’d intended it to be a playful jibe, something inappropriate and stupid, said under the influence of exhaustion and the desire to goad Gaston into praising him a little more by making him jealous. But Gaston frowned.

“Am I not enough?” he said, blinking several times in an enervated daze.

“Of course!” LeFou whispered with as much enthusiasm as he could, leaning his head on Gaston’s shoulder. “I-it was a joke.”

He felt a shyness sweep over him; he’d made things awkward. Gaston was beginning to fall asleep sitting up, so LeFou decided it would be best to settle back into his own tent. He pressed a soft hand to Gaston’s cheek to wake him just enough to press their lips together. Gaston smiled and leaned himself back on his elbows, slipping down, LeFou helping to guide him to the ground and get him settled in bed once more.

Peeking out of the tent’s entrance, LeFou spotted the soldiers on guard; their backs turned to him. He made the perfect dash back to his tent, keeping ducked and low; not particularly stealthy, but as long as he was quick, the guards would hopefully not notice his shadow.

Nobody woke when he pulled open the flap of his tent - he slept on the far left, so he didn’t have to crawl over Tom or Antoine. He passed out then, he imagined.

But when he woke, it still seemed to be dark.

“How late did I sleep?” he mumbled.

He'd expected an answer. Anything from either of his tentmates would have been suitable. But nobody was beside him in the tent once he’d pressed his knuckles into his eyes and opened them fully..

“...Geez…”

He was unsure whether he should dress, or turn back over and go back to sleep. It was too dark even to see the time on his pocket watch.

Then the integrity of his tent shook, startling him into alertness; flailing about to get his balance on his knees, still tangled in his bedding.

“Wake up in there!” A voice called from outside the tent.

“We know what you've done, LeFou,” said another. “Deviant! Absolute rubbish, y’are.”

LeFou squinted, confused. He'd only just woken up, what had he done?

Oh.

 _Oh no_.

He'd always been so perfectly careful. Nobody had ever caught on to him and Gaston, even despite their obvious closeness and the time they spent together. Nobody had ever questioned it at all.

His heart raced, absolutely pounding against his ribcage, so hard - so fast - he thought he might drop dead then and there of a heart attack. He'd found, too, that he'd broken out into a terrible sweat. Even if he wanted to face his accuser and deny anything, he wouldn’t make a very convincing case looking the way he did.

LeFou scrambled to his feet. He looked for another way out, knowing full well there was only one entrance to the tent, and Tom was always very good about hammering in the tent poles.

He was trapped.

“Wh-what do you mean?” he tried; voice shaky, but Lord, he tried.

He could see the shadows of his comrades reflected on the tent canvas. Several of them were out there -- several at _least_.

“What a devil! You'd try to deny it, even?” He could hear the men speaking among themselves, whispering, laughing darkly to each other.

“Come on out, liar!” Another man spoke this time.

LeFou had trouble placing names to voices in his panic, wracking his brain to come up with an excuse, an escape plan, anything. But one voice was distinguishable above all others.

“I think it would be best if you'd come on out, LeFou.”

Gaston.

His voice boomed. He sounded in good spirits as usual, a man among men; chummy and admirable. He didn't _sound_ like he wanted to torture LeFou.

Surely Gaston would get him out of this; put his fellow soldiers’ minds at ease about his unconventional activities. _Their_ unconventional activities. He could always count on Gaston to protect him.

So he opened the flap of the tent, ever so slowly. His gaze locked on Gaston, standing tall and proud, one leg elevated on a log as he basked in the orange glow of the fire. He had his arms crossed over his white gathered tunic; was still in his knickers. He hadn’t dressed - so was it still the early morning?

Why, then, was there such a crowd of people outside of his tent?

 

“Trouble sleeping, gentlemen?” LeFou smiled, but the doubt in his voice was clear, and he closed his mouth tight to prevent himself from saying anything more.

“Out you go,” said Tom, his tentmate and one of Gaston’s closest men. Though they were five or six years apart in age, he and LeFou had more or less grown up together in Villeneuve, and were on friendly terms.

So the ferocity with which he grabbed the collar of LeFou’s nightgown and hauled him out into the open shook him greatly. The man held him in place with his unwavering grasp on his collar and one hand to his back; kept him on all fours in the middle of a circle of his comrades; each one of them with sneering, leering, lewd faces.

LeFou felt the bubbling upset of nausea in his gut. Nothing good could come from this.

Yet when he looked up, desperately searching Gaston’s expression, he found nothing but assured confidence. His Captain smirked down at him, eyes gleaming.

“Gaston,” he managed to chirp, voice small. Quiet.

The hard ground hurt his bare knees, pebbles and debris on the surface of the dirt dug into his shins; was rough against his hands. He clutched at whatever grass he could to ground himself as he shook and heaved, but he was unable to vomit.

“Gaston, what’s happening?”

“Dear LeFou, do calm down,” his Captain cooed. “I come bearing a gift, true to my word.”

He leaned in, bent on one knee so to better look LeFou in the eye as he spoke. He reached an arm out, stroking LeFou’s face, drawing a thumb along the stubble on his jawline. His hand rested underneath LeFou’s chin and he tapped his thumb against his plush, pinkened lips.

“You know as well as I how insatiable you are. Didn’t you ask for this?”

LeFou paled. He couldn’t look at Gaston, remembering what he’d said, and instead stared towards the ground, focused on nothing. He was confused. Embarrassed. Scared.

“I-- I didn’t intend for--”

“Perhaps you were joking because you underestimated the pull of my influence,” Gaston grinned. He leaned close to place a kiss against LeFou’s cheek with suspicious tenderness, and whispered, “Promise me you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Gaston then stood tall and whirled about to face his audience, arms spread wide in display of benevolence.

“Men! We so often don’t have the time for carnal pleasure,” he spoke with charisma, grinning wide as the men around him chattered in agreeance. “LeFou here is willing to indulge you - so tonight, please enjoy yourselves!”

LeFou reeled; still felt sick to his stomach, with his heart pounding faster than ever in his chest. He fought the urge to flee; he wasn’t fast, and was grossly outnumbered. And the fiery look in Gaston’s eyes told him he would never get far - Gaston was set on having whatever was going to happen, happen.

His Captain began to unfasten his knickers for the second time that evening, taking his cock - already half-hard - in hand and pumping his fist up and down its length. Some of the men around them cheered, some shouted profanities.

What in the hell _was_ this!?

Nobody seemed concerned that their Captain was stroking himself in front of them; nobody made any more unwanted slurs, told LeFou how awful he was...Nobody threatened to have him shot or hanged or locked in an asylum. And nobody opposed when Gaston fell to his knees behind him - like he had so many times in the past in private - spat into his hand and slicked LeFou’s hole sloppily with it, and pressed the head of his cock hastily inside.

LeFou cried out, tears welling immediately in his eyes and falling, dampening the soil below in little dark flecks.

Gaston pushed in as far as he could and stilled, steadying himself; brushing his hands up and down LeFou’s sides under his nightgown, cooing, shushing him over and over. His fingertips were cold against LeFou’s heated skin, and managed to soothe LeFou’s nerves, if only slightly. Gaston shifted his weight so that he had LeFou in somewhat of a bearhug, reaching across his stout friend’s chest and holding him tight as he began to thrust in and out, painfully slowly.

“Is it okay if I move faster, LeFou?” Gaston breathed close to his neck.

“Do it, Captain!” unknown men shouted. “Give it to him!”

LeFou squeezed his eyes shut tight and nodded reluctantly. Regardless of how he felt about what was happening, it would definitely feel better if Gaston moved faster.

Gaston did as he said he would, and held tight to LeFou’s fleshy thighs as he snapped his hips against them repeatedly, working himself up to a steady rhythm. And true also to what LeFou believed, he soon began to feel more pleasure than pain - despite the lack of proper lubricant - but he was self-conscious and still aghast at what was taking place in their campsite. He still trembled at the thought that Gaston had offered him up to his men, scared of what they would do to him in the morning when the haze of exhaustion had settled and the men realized what they’d taken part in.

Gaston hummed behind him, breathing haggardly, fingertips digging more harshly into his thighs, dragging down and leaving angry red streaks behind.

“Fuck, LeFou,” he huffed, “look at how well you’re handling this. How well you’re taking my cock--”

He drove into LeFou harder, causing him to fall forward onto his forearms, hissing against the grit of the ground below him.

“ _Ah_ \--!”

LeFou rubbed his face against his shoulder, letting the cotton of his nightgown absorb unfallen tears, and when he dared to open his eyes, he felt his nerves react; his stomach twisted in panic again. The men around him leered, watching Gaston’s show with wide, hungry eyes. Many of them were pawing at the front of their nightgowns - their erections painfully evident through the thin cloth. Some of the men had been bold enough to shed their sleepwear completely, and stood naked, stroking themselves, biting their lips, chests heaving impatiently as they looked on.

Gaston’s company was ninety men strong. LeFou didn’t know what it might have looked like to be encircled by that many soldiers, but he was thankful that it seemed like there were maybe only twenty men here. Although every time the thought crossed his mind, it seemed as though there were more and more men joining the crowd.

“Gaston,” he whimpered pathetically. He didn’t even expect an answer, he just didn’t know what else to say.

“Who will be the first to claim my whore’s mouth?” Gaston growled to his men.

As though waiting for the cue, someone pushed their way to the front of the crowd, stopping short in front of LeFou’s face. One of the men who’d stripped themselves already.

Gaston spat out a laugh so feral it sent shivers down LeFou’s spine. “You have an eager patron, LeFou. Won’t you use that talented tongue of yours and please him?”

When LeFou looked up, hesitantly, he was surprised to see that he actually knew this soldier, by his first name at least. Stanley. Several years his junior, but a quiet and strong-willed man from Villeneuve, and one of Gaston’s loyal hangers-on as well. He was lean with muscles much smaller than Gaston’s, but well-toned; he obviously put a lot of effort into his appearance. And he was beautiful, LeFou was nonplussed to admit.

Stanley seemed nervous, tentatively placing the tip of his cock to LeFou’s lips, and gasping sweetly as they made contact. His eyes flitted about aimlessly - from LeFou, to the crowd around them, to Gaston, to the ground, and back to LeFou - and he smiled shyly, cheeks reddening visibly, even in the dim light of the fire.

It was endearing. Stanley reminded him instantly of how he’d first been with Gaston, unsure and eager. LeFou determined to make it a good experience for him, out of solidarity if nothing else.

So he licked his lips, nose bumping against Stanley’s bobbing member, and took him in. The man shuddered and gasped at the wet heat enveloping him; placed his hands on either side of LeFou’s head, petting his hair.

“G-God...LeFou…” he whispered, as he began to slowly thrust into LeFou’s throat.

LeFou groaned against Stanley’s cock, struggling to stay balanced on his knees, pegged between Stanley and Gaston as the latter fucked into him wildly. He grabbed hold of Stanley’s sharp hip bones, rubbing circles against his skin. The lean young man shivered, panting and staring desperately into LeFou’s eyes through thick, dark lashes.

“Good boy,” Gaston huffed behind them.

The lust-laced praise encouraged LeFou; spurred him on to take Stanley in deeper, humming around him, drool slipping salaciously past his lips. Stanley’s hands tightened in LeFou’s hair, and Gaston’s tightened on his hips, and LeFou was overcome with arousal; the feeling of being full at both ends, and desired like he was - it was empowering and erotic in a way he’d never known.

He found himself growing erect, cheeks growing hotter and his tears drying behind his eyes. When another man approached, standing beside Stanley and waiting his turn, LeFou absent-mindedly groped at him, pumping the man’s shaft in a rhythm similar to the one at which he was sucking Stanley off.

Soon Gaston’s set pace faltered, and he pushed his hips sharply against LeFou’s ass one final time; the results of his orgasm spilling into his chubby aide-de-camp.

“Fuck!” He growled loudly into the humid night’s air with a satisfied laugh.

He then withdrew from LeFou, breathing deeply from exertion, grin smeared across his face. LeFou whined at the loss as Gaston tucked himself back into his knickers, wiping his hands on them; the knees of them brown and dirty, reminding LeFou of where he was.

How dirty he probably was himself.

Well.

How dirty he undoubtedly was.

“You’re well-lubed now, I’d say,” Gaston laughed. “Who’s next?”

Stanley didn’t last long after Gaston spoke, bending over LeFou and grappling desperately at him to sturdy himself as his legs wobbled and he came thickly into LeFou’s warm, accepting mouth. He groaned LeFou’s name sweetly, gasping for air as LeFou swallowed his release down, smacking his lips and turning to the man whom he didn’t recognize, but whose cock was hot in his right hand.

“Th-thank you, LeFou,” Stanley coughed, winded; stumbling backwards to sit on the sidelines and watch the rest of the show as others stepped forward, in line to have their turn.

Tom stepped in then, to take Gaston’s place; Gaston slapping the man on the back in a show of good-will and well-wishes. It was easy for the man to slip inside, and though LeFou felt obscene in doing so, he bucked his hips back impatiently until the length of Tom’s cock was nestled fully inside.

“Oof-- Tighter than any girl I know,” Tom grunted, cheerfully kneading at LeFou's ass as he thrust. “I thought you were a whore?”

LeFou hummed, whimpering needily. His cock was hard and had gone thus far untouched; it ached and brushed against his stomach uncomfortably with every one of Tom’s withdrawals and thrusts. He could feel himself dripping with precum, rubbing against and sticking to his nightgown as he moved.

LeFou focused his energy on pleasing his unknown assailant and the stranger between his lips sputtered at the pressure with which LeFou suckled at him. He grunted and groaned and didn’t last nearly as long as Stanley had. He shook and swore and LeFou opened his mouth to allow the man to stripe his tongue with hot white streaks.

Another, who LeFou recognized as a man named Dick, pushed his way forward through the crowd, cock in hand. He seemingly had little interest in having LeFou suck on him, and was already at his limit, pumping himself once; twice; then cumming across LeFou’s cheek and lips messily.

LeFou’s eyes flew open at the sensation, cum cooling on his lips and dribbling from his chin. He reached up to wipe it on his sleeve, but as he did, he noticed more and more of the men drawing closer. Some of them had red, bobbing erections, precum shining in the firelight. Others looked like they had already managed to get off, foreheads sweaty and eyes drooping with exhaustion.

“You look good LeFou, dripping with the seed of your comrades,” Gaston called, sucking on his lower lip. He sat watching his friend, sitting on a log by the fire, leaning with his chin in one hand; eyes burning with interest and raw arousal.

“The role of the company slut suits you.”

LeFou mewled at his Captain’s lewd words, rocking his hips desperately against Tom’s hips, grasping for support at the hips and erections of his fellow soldiers who had gathered around the front of him. The ground bit into his knees but he ignored the pain as best he could.

“ _Ugh_ , yeah--!”

Finally Tom growled behind him, stiffening and slowing his thrusts. He slapped LeFou’s backside forcefully as he withdrew his cock; the mixture of his and Gaston’s ejaculate leaking from LeFou and running down his legs. He shivered as he felt it; breathed sharply through his nose.

It was hot.

His reservations and fear had completely dissipated now, and he wanted - _craved_ \- more. The thought that he had little idea who was going to be using him at any given time was distinctly erotic.

“Gaston,” he gasped, voice cracked, eyes half-lidded and cheeks pure red, “am I doing well?”

Gaston chortled, moving from his seat on the log to kneel beside his friend.

“Perfect,” he said; nearly panting against LeFou’s ear. That one word dripping from his lips like the sweetest poison. He licked the shell of LeFou’s ear and nipped at his lobe. “Do you want more?”

And LeFou’s breath had been taken away. He nodded furiously.

“Good boy, I’m glad.” Gaston ruffled his friend’s hair and made his way back to his log by the fire.

LeFou’s hands worked up and down the shafts of the two men before him, simultaneously, though absent-mindedly, and another man approached from his right to spill the results of his orgasm onto LeFou’s lower back where his nightgown had ridden up in the shuffle of the event. Then a hand was at his neck - one of the men he was holding. The hand slipped to LeFou’s jawline, gripping him roughly and tugging his head over to the tip of his cock.

His eyes slipped closed as LeFou obediently opened his mouth and took the man in, sucking hard; giving into the need to please him, knowing that it would in turn please Gaston.

“He’s drooling, he loves it!”

He could hear the men around him cheering him on, spewing obscenities, calling him a slut. It drove him crazy in the best way; turned him on to be the center of attention like this, nobody frowning at what was happening. People goading him on to take more and more and more.

“Someone fuck him already.”

LeFou split his attention between the two men in front of him, lapping at the underside of the man on the left’s cock while he stroked the man on the right, and vice-versa. One of them pulled his hair, and he yelped. The man on the left was rather girthy and he choked on his cock when it entered deep into his throat.

The man laughed, and through the chatter in the crowd, LeFou could pick out Gaston’s laugh as well.

His face burned and he determined to take the man down. When he tried again and succeeded, he held himself there; nose flush against the man’s sweat-soaked pubic hair. The man groaned above him; rocked his hips back and forth until the man beside him grew impatient and pulled LeFou over to his own cock.

Soon LeFou felt more hands behind him; someone pushing his nightgown up his back, to his shoulders. He removed his lips from the man on the right so that he could rid himself of the garment, and then continued his ministrations, sucking at the strange mens’ cocks and entertaining several other men who had joined them, masturbating as they watched the display.

Someone settled between LeFou’s legs, then, and drove hard into him, LeFou arching his back and groaning in protest, teeth scraping the man in his mouth. The man hissed but otherwise accepted the brush of pain and continued thrusting quickly past LeFou’s lips at a pace faster than before.

As was the routine of the evening, the man on the right grunted and came on LeFou’s tongue, and the man on the left soon followed suit, chest heaving, breathing heavily. He missed LeFou’s mouth - whether by accident or on purpose, it wasn’t clear - and left a stripe of thick cum across LeFou’s nose. It smeared over to his cheek, and LeFou stuck his tongue out to catch some of it as it dripped.

The man behind him was relentless, moaning and swearing and fucking into him harder than even Gaston had dared to. LeFou’s eyes watered but he was too numb with arousal to cry and instead reached down between his legs to finally - _finally_ \- touch himself.

“LeFou-- God! Fuck!”

LeFou recognized the voice as belonging to his tentmate Antoine. He was a younger man, like Stanley, though less well-defined and much shorter (and not nearly as lovely). LeFou was close to snorting out a laugh, inwardly chiding the reckless eagerness of youth. It was rough and quick and uncomfortable, but the gip he had on his own cock helped to ease the pain.

When Antoine jerked forward suddenly and cried out, he fell forward, hugging tightly to LeFou’s back.

“Don’t make a mess of yourself,” one man laughed.

“Too late,” said another, dragging Antoine away cheerfully.

LeFou took a moment to catch his breath, sticky hands pressed to the earth and his own weeping erection; knees filthy and sore. He inhaled, stomach bouncing with every gentle heave. The humidity wasn’t helping, and he could feel trickles of sweat - or was it cum? - trickling down his sides; running down his arms.

Through hazy eyes, he could see Gaston walking over to him. He held his crotch as he moved, eyes dark; the sultry expression on his face forcing LeFou to stop sliding his hand along his cock.

“I think it’s about time for a finale,” Gaston sang. He threw his tunic down on the ground beside LeFou and laid atop it. “Get on top.”

LeFou bit his lower lip, taking note of some of the disappointed faces of soldiers around them who had still been hoping to spill inside of him. Still, he obeyed Gaston’s order and made his way on wobbly legs to where Gaston lay. He was embarrassed by how messy he was; was afraid to soil Gaston’s perfect body.

But Gaston must have known - he could very clearly see the dirt and sweat and cum of other men on him - and he didn’t seem to care, for he smiled up at LeFou and whispered, “Come on.”

His backside was tender - painfully so - and sitting on Gaston’s impressive erection for the second time tonight sent a shockwave throughout his body. He forced himself down until Gaston finally bottomed out inside of him.

“There,” Gaston cooed calmingly, “There. Do you think you can handle more?”

LeFou stared dumbly in reply. What did he mean, _more_? He narrowed his eyes in thought, but the simple truth was that he didn’t have the capacity in his current state to think too hard about whatever wild sexual fantasy Gaston endeavoured to fulfill tonight, so he nodded.

“Y-yes,” LeFou whispered. “Fuck me.”

Gaston flashed an impish smile.

“Who here will join me? There must be one more among you who’s been dying to try it,” he boomed.

The men spoke among themselves, murmuring, snickering.

A man stepped forward and removed his nightgown. LeFou recognized him as a man named Laurence - tall, long blonde hair, a rather average man overall - but hadn’t spoken to him much around camp. Not that it mattered anymore. He knelt between Gaston’s legs and waited for instruction.

One of Gaston’s hands caressed LeFou’s back and tilted him closer; LeFou’s gut pressed close to Gaston’s abdominals, and there was no un-soiling his Captain now. LeFou whimpered as he shifted and felt Gaston reach down to his buttocks, grabbing a cheek in each hand and spreading.

It was wildly embarrassing. Despite what LeFou had been through - what he had done - it was something else completely to be lewdly spread and put on display for a man be barely knew.

But Gaston snorted and said breathily, “Put your cock in, then,” and the soldier complied.

LeFou shouted as a searing pain shot through every nerve in his body. The familiar man moved slowly but nothing could help the fact that LeFou had two cocks inside of him - had never been anywhere close to this full - and it was incredible, but incredibly distressing as well. He trembled weakly against Gaston’s chest and moaned, tears stinging in his eyes.

“G-Gaston--! _God_ \--! No!”

“Shh,” he purred, “shh, it’ll be okay once we start moving.”

There didn’t seem to be any way that that could be true, and LeFou continued to whimper and sob and hold tightly to Gaston’s shoulders. He smelt like firewood and LeFou breathed him in deeply to distract himself. But suddenly Laurence pushed in more, ever so slowly, moaning desperately in bliss.

“So _tight_ ,” he breathed through clenched teeth.

The two men began to rock their hips in asynchronous rhythms, while LeFou howled. It hurt. And yet, it was undeniably sexy on some level; at least the _thought_ of what was happening was, until--

“Ah!!”

LeFou shook, eyes wide, staring at the stars. He clenched his muscles and the men beneath him moaned in appreciation. When he screwed his eyes shut, he continued to see stars; white slivers of light dancing behind his eyelids. LeFou was slack-jawed and panting; quivering from just that one thrust that had hit something amazing inside of him.

“Th-there!” He panted weakly, “Keep moving like that.”

Gaston and the man thrust again, same as before, and again LeFou cried out.

“Oh God!”

“See LeFou? You can take this,” Gaston grinned, nose red and eyelids heavy. “Such a good whore. The best.”

LeFou was beside himself, wracked with pleasure. He sank his fingernails into Gaston’s upper arms, clinging violently to him, panting hotly against his bare skin. He was so close. They began to fuck into him faster and with more fervor, getting closer to their own orgasms as well.

“Show your compatriots how you look when you reach your limit, LeFou,” Gaston rasped.

“ _Gaston!_ ”

It didn’t take long for LeFou to cum - his Captain’s words and the entire night’s events catching up with him rapidly and overwhelming him completely as he reached down between his and Gaston’s stomachs and pumped himself to fruition. He moaned loudly up at the sky, crying out as his release hit him; wanting nothing more than to collapse, but he still had Gaston and one of Gaston’s men inside of him, thrusting deeply in tandem.

“Gaston!” he repeated.

Saliva dripped from his tongue that lolled over his wet lips.

The soldier named Laurence came first, grabbing to LeFou’s waist as his thrusting slowed and he toppled backward to the ground. Gaston finished a short moment later, holding LeFou closely to him; sinking his teeth into LeFou’s neck and sucking hard, drawing another sharp cry from his exhausted, well-used underling.

They stayed entangled, catching their breaths as men laughed and cheered and moaned as they got off by themselves. Two bold men approached as LeFou slid off of Gaston’s softening cock, and LeFou opened his mouth for them lazily, eyes closed as they came.

And that was it.

He was utterly wrecked and a complete mess. He felt full and satisfied, though utterly sore and in need of sleep. His eyelids were so heavy, but he managed to open them at last.

The last thing LeFou remembered before passing out was Gaston’s proud smile and soft blush.

 

. **: :** .

 

LeFou woke to Antoine shaking him gently.

“LeFou, wake up,” he spoke softly.

He rubbed his tired eyes as he came to; remembering what he’d done, he fumbled to get the blankets off of him, panicked. He found in his haste that his nightgown was soiled - of course it was - as he smeared the mess with his hand by accident. He groaned in disgust and hid his hand in the blankets.

“Moanin’ a lot in your sleep,” Tom said, changing into a fresh top, with the rest of his uniform in front of him on the bedroll.

He turned to LeFou with a vague look of concern, and LeFou paled; stared back at his tentmate with wide, dry eyes. His mouth hung open, mortified and unsure what to say. Was he going to mention last night?

His heart began to race, but when Tom spoke next, he only mumbled, “You alright?”

LeFou blinked.

“Bad...dream I guess.” He felt like he was going crazy. “’Scuse me.”

He tore off his soiled nightgown, balling it up and tossing it into the corner of the tent designated for his clothes and supplies. He grabbed a fresh pair of knickers and pulled them on; grabbed a tunic and made his way out of the tent.

As he stood and flipped open the tent, he noticed with relief that he wasn’t in any particular pain. He pulled his tunic over his head as he walked quickly over the field to Gaston’s tent. Two men by the fire chided him for not being fully dressed by now, but he ignored them. He didn’t want to - couldn’t - talk to anyone right now.

Gaston was awake and dressed, but reclining on his bed when LeFou pulled the flap open and slipped inside, fingers pressed to his temple, massaging as though he had a pounding headache. LeFou wouldn’t doubt it. Had be been wildly drunk during the event?

“What the hell happened last night!?” LeFou whispered, voice high-pitched and pointed. To say he was furious wouldn’t quite be correct, but he was rather rattled and confused.

“Are you going to dress? You have duty,” Gaston frowned, clearly miffed by his friend barging in on him in the early morning.

“ _Last night!?_ ” LeFou sputtered.

“You mean the fellatio,” Gaston stated softly, smirking. “Yes, job well done, LeFou, thank you.”

LeFou was aghast. “Not _that_. Did you-- did we---”

Gaston’s eyes thinned and he said nothing, simply stared; rotating his wrist as though to say, “get on with it.”

“Did everyone...um, you know. Have...their way...with me..?”

Saying it aloud, it seemed positively ridiculous.

Gaston released a boisterous laugh, and LeFou worried that a nosy soldier would intrude, wanting to know what was so funny. He knew, of course, that Gaston would reprimand any other soldier who entered his tent, and that an intrusion wasn’t likely-- still. He was filled to the brim with worry this morning.

“LeFou, don’t be daft! You’d be sent to a mad house if you so much as made the suggestion--!” He laughed some more, brow sitting high on his forehead as he looked his aide-de-camp up and down. “I can do many things, but I can’t change the world. I thought you were just joking, anyway.”

LeFou frowned, coming to the realization that perhaps it really had just been a dream. A very vivid dream. It explained - at least - why he wasn’t sore and not nearly as mussed and grimey as he felt he should be after a night of roisterous sex.

He blushed; could feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rising to his cheeks and spreading to the tips of his ears.

“I guess so…” He shook his head slightly, hair bouncing around his cheeks. “I must have dreamt it.”

Gaston smiled, “That’s what I like about you, LeFou: you have big ambitions.” He drew LeFou closer to him, tracing the stout man’s lips with his thumb. “But you’re mine, and I don’t share very well, I’m afraid.”

LeFou smirked against Gaston’s thumb, body relaxing at last.

“Fine by me, Captain.”

“But you should go before I have to punish you for shirking your duties.”

LeFou placed a kiss to Gaston’s hand, nodding, and turned to leave.

For as stuffy as it was in the tents, there was a gentle, cool breeze outside that felt fantastic against LeFou’s sweat-slicked skin. As he made his way back to his tent to get properly dressed, he caught glances with Stanley. The young man smiled and averted his eyes, and LeFou couldn’t help but smirk; bowing his head and carrying on.

He considered later relaying the details of his dream to Gaston but thought better of it. In the very least he would have quite a few eyes to avoid if he wanted to remain calm during training today. But he couldn’t forget the burning look that Gaston had given him in his dream.

He sighed.

In the end, there was nothing for it; he began to start his day like any other, but made a silent vow to make more inappropriate jokes with Gaston in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry! Please put your love or hate in the comments or message me on Twitter @riachinko :D


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